Meanwhile, beyond the towering Tree of Life, where ancient trees stand like silent sentinels...
Aelar stood tall, his leaf-wood-handled sword glowing faintly with a green aura. Across from him stood the brown-eyed invader of the Godless Abyss, his breath calm, expression cold.
"This is the end," Aelar declared, pointing his blade.
The invader's eyes narrowed. "You leave me no other choice."
His voice echoed with something darker.
"Dered."
The crimson gem embedded in his sword flared, glowing like molten lava. As if alive, it flowed upward—sinking into his body like liquid fire. Just like Tornem the Grey, the one the beast Lonor fought, the transformation began instantly.
"What?" Aelar muttered, already moving, swinging his blade to stop him—but he was too late.
The invader raised a hand and caught Aelar's sword mid-strike, blood gushing from his palm.
"I didn't want to use this," he whispered as a dark red aura exploded from him. His wounds sealed. His armor changed—tightened, darkened, veins pulsing. The arm that blocked Aelar's sword twisted, warped… and turned into a dark sword.
His hair lifted unnaturally. His once-brown eyes turned pure black.
Aelar instinctively stepped back.
"What… did you just do?"
No answer.
Only a calm voice.
"You asked me once why I never used aura," the invader said. "You want to know the truth?"
He raised his sword-arm, pointing at Aelar.
"I couldn't. Not until now."
He swung—
FOOM!
A visible black slash roared from the swing, tearing through the air. Aelar dodged just in time, leaping high into the forest canopy—but the slash kept going, cutting through trees like paper before finally vanishing.
"That red crystal changed him," Aelar thought midair. "Not only unlocked his aura manipulation, but now he can wield it. So he was holding back…"
"But so was I."
FSHH!
The invader suddenly appeared right in front of him, midair. Their blades clashed, sparking violently.
Aelar forced a smirk. "After all that, this is it? You're still weak."
The invader's black eyes held no reaction. "We'll see."
They collided again, then again—flashes of steel ripping the forest apart. But Aelar was now bleeding—cuts on his arms, chest, and side.
Yet every wound—healed.
In seconds.
"Vital Surge."
The rare elven ability. The reason Aelar was feared even among his fellow elves—the spell he taught his disciple Icariel, too.
The invader saw it too. "You… keep healing."
Aelar wiped blood from his jaw. "I don't die easy."
Another swing. Another dodge. Another clash.
FOOM!
A black vertical slash roared toward him—Aelar jumped aside, but then—CRACK!
A devastating kick landed on Aelar's side, sending him crashing into the earth. Dust exploded outward. The forest trembled.
The invader landed beside the crater. "Where is your strength now, Warleader?"
But then—
Green light.
Surging from the pit.
Aelar stood slowly, his body glowing. Every wound vanishing. His eyes glowing emerald, his expression calm—but colder than before.
"Tch. If it weren't for that healing ability of yours…" the invader muttered.
He launched himself forward again, blade ready—but Aelar was gone.
BOOM!
Aelar reappeared behind him in a flash—and this time, he kicked him with the same strength he had received. The invader's body smashed into the ground, even harder.
"You talk too much," Aelar said.
Something in him had shifted. He wasn't just fighting now. He was hunting. A green aura erupted around him, wilder, sharper than before.
"Impossible," the invader muttered, rising again, coughing blood. "How did you do that?!"
Aelar's gaze locked on him.
"Who knows?" he said.
His aura spoke louder than words. The forest itself seemed to hold its breath.
The invader lunged, desperate—but his attacks couldn't touch Aelar now. His blade was always too slow, always a step behind.
"What is this?! What did you do?!"
They clashed again—CLANG!
Aelar dropped his sword mid-clash, sidestepped, and punched the invader in the ribs. The sound of bones cracking echoed through the forest.
BOOOM!
The invader's body shattered through trees, crashing into the distance.
Calmly, Aelar walked over, picked up his sword, and pointed it at the invader.
"You think I needed tricks to beat you?" he said, stepping forward. "I trained armies for war. I don't just fight it—I am the war."
The invader rose again, his body a ruined canvas of wounds, blood dripping down his cracked lips. Yet his pitch-black eyes burned with tremendous fury.
"H-How… Even after I used that… how are you still stronger?!"
Aelar's voice came calm, composed. "I'm not."
The invader froze.
"What…?"
"You were definitely faster, stronger—more powerful—right after using that crystal," Aelar said, eyes narrowing. "But only for a short while."
With his enhanced elven vision, Aelar looked through the invader's body—beneath the muscle, beyond the blood—and saw it:
The small flame of aura that once lived inside his heart was now fused with the red crystal, lines of dark energy webbing out across his veins, burning him from the inside.
Aelar's eyes narrowed. "I don't know what that crystal he used was, but that method doesn't grant power—it carves it out. It bleeds from the soul, the nerves, even memory. It's borrowed strength, and it always comes with a price. And now it's showing the expected result… it's draining. Rapidly."
The invader's face twisted in horror. "What? That's not possible! There is still a lot of time left!"
Aelar stepped forward, each bootfall calm, deliberate.
"You wasted my time," he said coldly. "All for a pitiful trick. Even if your power lasted longer, the result would've been the same. If I used my full strength, I'd have ended this even if that power lasted."
Now they stood face to face. Aelar pointed his sword at the invader's throat—just like before.
Only now, the invader was broken, powerless, panting.
"You delayed your death by a few minutes. That's all." Aelar's voice grew heavier. "To think a human with the potential to become a true Swordmaster… fell this low. If you had stayed loyal to the path, you might've reached the skies."
The invader's black eyes widened… and began to bleed. Tears of blood streamed down his face.
"You think you know me?!" he screamed. "I did everything I could! I bled, I fought, I suffered! And it still wasn't enough! Who are you to judge me?! WHO?!"
Aelar didn't blink.
Fshhh—
His sword moved—so fast, the invader couldn't react.
SHHK.
His head rolled to the ground.
"…Yeah. Who am I to judge," he muttered, as he just watched the blood pool—until it stopped spreading. "He could've been more," he murmured. "If someone had found him earlier."
Then he turned, the green glow fading from his eyes. His blade glowed briefly, then retracted—returning to its place as a silver band around his wrist.
"Tch. I wasted too much time," Aelar said. "Whatever he used… it would've killed him eventually. That crystal was wrecking his body."
He looked toward the horizon. His thoughts drifted to Icariel, Elif, Elena.
"I hope they're holding on."
But then—
FOOOOM.
His ears twitched. His eyes widened.
He turned instinctively—his arms crossing in front of his chest—BAM!
A blow struck him like a meteor. He skidded back, crashing into one of the gigantic ancient trees, its bark shattering on impact.
Aelar's expression twisted—confusion? Panic? Fear?
Because someone was there.
Standing a few meters away. Calm. Not even breathing hard.
Black pants. A long black coat, open at the chest—revealing a lean but powerful body. Dark hair. Orange eyes.
And burned into his shoulder—the mark of Godless Abyss.
Aelar rose, already glowing with green light, arms surrounded by raw energy.
The forest had fallen deathly still. Not a bird chirped, not a breeze stirred. Ancient trunks rose like sleeping giants, their bark cracked and moss-covered, branches drooping like watching heads. Even the insects had vanished—sensing the weight that now poisoned the air.
"You… predicted that?" the man asked, mildly impressed.
Aelar didn't answer.
"…Who the hell are you?" he asked instead.
"I'm the last thing you'll ever see," the man replied.
He was the one who emerged from the Crogs Portal in the elven village—the one who killed Orela the Cursed Brain, his own teammate, and left Tessara barely alive amidst the ruins.
FWOOM— He vanished, then appeared again behind Aelar.
BAM!
Another strike. Aelar barely blocked it—this time sliding backward, boots carving trenches in the forest soil.
"That strength…" Aelar thought. His green eyes locked onto the mark on the man's shoulder. "Another member of Godless Abyss—but he's different. Entirely different."
His attacks were raw. Clean. No aura techniques. No mana casting. No weapons.
Aelar clenched his fists. "He's no mage... With a body like that and not a single weapon in sight, he's probably a superhuman. That would explain the raw physical power."
The man slowly stepped forward, each step light but full of weight.
The invader tilted his head, studying Aelar with cold amusement. "Thinking a lot, aren't you?" His voice was smooth, almost conversational, but the weight behind his words pressed like a blade against Aelar's throat. "You killed my subordinate back there. Cut his head clean off."
He smirked.
"I think I'll return the favor… by crushing yours."
Aelar rose fully now, breath stable, his wounds healed again thanks to Vital Surge. The green energy around his arms flared brighter.
"I'd love to see you try."
He took out his sword once more, taking a stance unlike before—lower, tighter, like a coiled beast.
The invader grinned.
"Good," he said. "Let's see what the Warleader of the Elves is made of."